Last night was a fairly unique experience in AH. The IJN was steaming their CVBG in a leisurely racetrack pattern in the straits between A11 and A12, all the while shelling both of these Allied bases. Having no shore batteries available from either field with which to contest this abuse, I looked around for something bigger that a rock to throw at the enemy fleet. Our own cruiser squadron was too many miles away to get to the fight in time. I could have grabbed a Boston, TBM, or Jabo, but my luck with torps or level bombing of fleets is poor and I just couldn’t bring myself to do the suicide-jabo thing. In desperation, I noticed a flotilla of six friendly destroyers running out of that same strait. Grabbing the helm, I brought us about and gave chase. Obligingly the enemy continued his lazy circling, unconcerned by the threat – puny as it was – of a half dozen tin cans. I raked the enemy with my 20-mm AA guns (darn, why can’t I man those 5-inchers?), turning around for another pass.
At some point, the bee-stings began to bother the elephant, and I began to see the tell-tale geysers of the enemy cruiser’s main batteries begin to fountain around our gallant little band of ships. I went to assume command of TG28 again for yet another pass, and found that I was no longer alone. David had been joined by his brother to take on Goliath. AirScrew had assumed command of TG28, and was already turning us about to once again take us in harms way.
With both of us madly pumping 20-mm rounds into the enemy CV and CA, the elephant was now aware of his peril. He was no longer concerned with shelling our fields, but was instead going after our destroyers in earnest. Despite brilliant maneuvering by Commodore AirScrew, we lost one of our ships. Coming around again in our ponderous ballet, we lost a second. Would we, like the noble six hundred of the Light Brigade, go down into the valley of death, never to ride out again? Undaunted, we resolved to not go down without a fight.
Just when it appeared ours was indeed a futile act of defiance, the elephant faltered. In our closest pass yet, so close that our gun barrels were trained out level with the wave tops, the enemy cruiser suddenly belched forth smoke and ground to a halt. Tipping its proud bow beneath the waters as if in farewell salute, it slid quickly beneath the waves. Sensing victory at hand, AirScrew and I turned our full fury on the now naked behemoth, the Japanese flattop. Twenty seconds or so later, she too burst into flames and tipped her stern to the sky. The IJN destroyers, left without a charge to protect, lasted less than a minute longer before they too succumbed to the watery depths. Amid the cheering and back-slapping, there were those of us who simply stood to at our guns, too amazed at our survival, let a lone our victory, to do more than gaze in wonder at the now empty straits.
Salute to Commodore Eagler, our worthy opponent, to Commodore AirScrew for his brilliant seamanship, and to WALT, who continued to dive his plane into the hornet’s nest in his attempts to hasten the Japanese fleet’s demise. Imagine how much more fun this would have been with destroy-launched torps, man-able main batteries on those destroyers, and the fire and smoke and flotsam of a real naval warfare model in AH!
